XI. Zero Hour

Monday. October sixteenth. Any day now.

It had been a tense past couple of days--it seemed to Victor that the atmosphere in the house was one of waiting for a cannon to go off. Every day seemed to blend into the next--it was all about waiting, now. Mrs. Reed had taken to keeping close at hand, just in case, which meant that most of her days were spent in the kitchen. Victor thought it must get terribly boring in there after awhile. But still, it was nice to know that she was nearby.

October sixteenth--Victor and Victoria had taken to announcing the date to each other every morning, since it might turn out to be their child's birthday. Just after teatime, they were in the parlor. The late afternoon was incredibly gray, and the sky itself seemed to be pushing against the bay window. Victoria had been in a funny mood all day. In response to his repeated questions, she'd only said that she felt a little strange--but that he shouldn't worry. So now she sat on the sofa, head back and eyes closed, her back propped up by several pillows and her feet resting on a small embroidered footstool. Victor was at the piano, almost with his back to her. He kept interrupting his playing in order to turn around and make sure Victoria was all right.

"Please, do keep playing," she finally said after the fourth time he'd paused. "Really, it helps. And you might not believe this, but the baby seems to like your playing as well," she added with a smile. Victor returned the smile.

"Remarkable," he said quietly. Turning back to the keys, he added, "I can't deny two requests. What shall it be?" Victoria was quiet for a moment.

"Number sixteen," she replied. "That one cheers me up."

Victor knew that by "number sixteen" she meant the Mozart sonata. Even though Victoria couldn't play the piano herself, she'd developed a real appreciation for music over the past three years. And she really had a fondness for Mozart--the first time he'd played a Mozart piece for her (on their honeymoon, that had been), she'd said that she could feel the music in the pit of her stomach. There were some real depths to Victoria, Victor had found. She might not dance in the moonlight, but deep down, she was as passionate a person as he'd ever met. Though you wouldn't think it to look at her, Victor thought with a slightly crooked grin.

"A nice choice for today," Victor agreed, inclining his head at the dreary weather outside. And so he began to play. Soon enough, the rapid, lively music seemed to cheer the parlor.

"How do you suppose your parents are doing?" Victor asked, trying to make conversation as the piece slowed. It was more to keep Victoria alert than anything else--the last time he'd turned around he'd seen that she'd been sitting very still, her eyes still closed. Victoria gave a little sigh.

"I suppose they're fine," she replied. "They haven't been to a shooting party in years."

"I think this will be my parents' first shooting party," Victor said. "I do wonder..." he trailed off, feeling a trifle guilty for even thinking what he'd been about to say.

"What do you wonder?" Victoria asked absently. He shrugged and grinned a little before he said off-handedly,

"I wonder how long it will be before someone snaps and tries to use my mother for target practice."

"Victor, you're dreadful."

"I know." But still, they smiled at one another. The sonata came to an end, and for a moment he sat, running his fingers over the keys reflectively.

"Are you sorry?" he asked, turning again to face Victoria. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Sorry?" she repeated. "Whatever for?"

"Just that...your parents probably won't be here when the baby's born. You're sure that doesn't bother you?"

"No, not really. I don't think they'd have come even if they'd been home," Victoria replied after a moment. "Besides...it was our bad timing to have a baby during the shooting season," she added, quoting Maudeline sardonically.

Victor shook his head. Maudeline had said that a week ago, after announcing that she and Finis were spending a week or so at Lord someone or other's estate out in the country. Of course, the Everglots had agreed to attend before they knew that Nell had also wrangled herself an invitation. Chances were good, in Victor's opinion, that one of the respective mother-in-laws might not survive the holiday.

"We can always send a telegram afterwards," Victor said. Nodding, Victoria closed her eyes again and leaned back on her pillows. As she did so, she grimaced a little.

"Are you quite certain you're all right?" Victor asked, watching her closely. It took her a moment to answer. When she did, she sounded a bit breathless.

"It's nothing, I'm sure," she said, holding her bulging middle. "I simply feel a little...strange." As he watched, Victoria's face suddenly contorted, and she doubled over, her feet springing off of the footstool as she leaned forward.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. It sounded like a muffled scream. Victor's heart almost stopped. He jumped up from the piano bench, only faintly hearing the clatter it made as it fell to the floor. Almost in a single leap he was crouching next to the sofa, looking up into Victoria's face.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, reaching out and laying a hand on her shoulder. She was trembling, her eyes shut tight. Victor waited, scarcely breathing, for Victoria to answer. She opened her eyes after a long moment, and turned slowly to meet his worried gaze.

"That hurt," she said breathlessly, sounding almost surprised. "That really hurt."

"Is it...I mean...?" Victoria nodded.

"I think so."

Oh, my goodness, Victor thought.

"All right, everything's fine, it's all right," Victor said wildly, jumping up. "You sit right there, I'll go get Mrs. Reed." Without waiting for a response, he bounded toward the parlor door. Then he stopped, turned, and ran back to Victoria.

"Maybe you should come with me," he said, gently putting one arm around her waist. She was halfway out of her seat when he stopped again.

"Wait, no, maybe you should sit back down. You probably shouldn't be walking...but wait, you have to get upstairs, so you'll have to walk. Can you walk? I think I can carry you," Victor said in a rush. He leaned down, trying to put his other arm behind Victoria's knees.

"Victor," she said, tapping him on the shoulder. He paused, looking up at her.

"I'm fine at the moment," Victoria assured him. "I can walk." So saying, she straightened up, keeping her hand on his shoulder for balance. Victor quickly followed, taking hold of her hand, his arm still gently around her waist. He was afraid he might break her or something if he kept too tight a hold.

They made their way to the foot of the stairs. Victoria seemed all right again, much to Victor's relief. He took her face in his hands.

"I'll be right back," he said. He was just turning to head through the dining room to the kitchen to get Mrs. Reed when Victoria stopped him.

"It's happening," she whispered, laying her hands over his. "It won't be just us anymore. Everything will be different." She was smiling as she said it, though.

"A good sort of different," Victor assured her, returning the smile. Then he grew more serious. "You're all right?" It seemed a stupid question as soon as he'd asked it, but he wanted to make sure.

"I'm a little...well..." Victoria tightened her grip on his hands. "Terrified," she finished, with a nervous, breathless little laugh.

"You'll be all right," he replied. Oh, how he hoped he was telling the truth. "I'll go get Mrs. Reed."

"You don't have to," a voice said from nearby. Both of them looked over, seeing plump, gray-haired Mrs. Reed bustling out of the dining room in her brisk way. They dropped their hands and turned toward her.

"I heard the commotion from the kitchen," she explained, brushing past Victor to cast an appraising eye over Victoria. Apparently satisfied, she turned to Victor.

"Was it the piano bench again, sir?" Mrs. Reed asked. Feeling a bit sheepish, he nodded. Then, he fully remembered what was going on.

"Mrs. Reed, it's...We think it's..." Victor wasn't quite sure how to phrase it. But Mrs. Reed seemed to know exactly what he was talking about.

"I told you you'd be able to tell," she said to Victoria in a low voice. Blushing faintly, Victoria nodded.

"What should we...do?" Victoria asked, laying a steadying hand on the railing.

"We stay calm, and we get you upstairs," Mrs. Reed replied. "And there's no need to get all in a rush—first babies are notoriously slow in coming." It was obvious that she'd done this many, many times. After a moment she glanced back and forth between them.

"And we could smile a bit, I suppose," she added. "You are going to have a baby after all, Mister and Missus." There was a brief pause, and Victor and Victoria met each others gaze. Over their worry, they both managed smiles.

"All right then," Mrs. Reed said quietly, taking Victoria's elbow and turning her toward the stairs.

This is going so awfully fast, Victor thought. Steady on, then, he told himself.

"I'm going for the doctor," he announced, trying to make his tone as manly and in-control as he possibly could. Not quite able to take his gaze away from Victoria, who had paused and turned around on the stairs to give him a reassuring look, Victor backed quickly toward the door. He didn't want to waste a moment, no matter what Mrs. Reed said. Grabbing the door handle, he depressed the little button and gave a push.

Nothing happened.

Victor paused for a moment. The door wasn't locked, he was sure. Probably just stuck. Straining a bit, he pushed once more, harder.

"Victor?" Victoria asked. "What's the matter?"

"The door won't open!" Victor replied, hoping he didn't sound too hysterical. He didn't want to worry Victoria. This was awful. He couldn't even get out of the house--why did the door choose this moment to stick? On the brink of panic, Victor managed to pull himself together. I need to be calm; I need to hold myself together. Victoria can't be worrying about me right now. I need to be calm, he thought, using the words as a combination mantra and command.

So he took a deep breath, smiled encouragingly at Victoria over his shoulder, and pushed against the door again. Nothing. Tightening his grip on the door handle, he pushed as hard as he could. Still nothing. The panic was beginning to set in again.

"Victor," he heard Victoria say. Pasting a calm, collected expression on his face, he turned toward her.

"Don't worry darling, you'll be all right, I just need to get the door unstuck," Victor said reassuringly.

"But Victor--"

"Shouldn't take a moment," he interrupted, throwing her a reassuring smile and turning back to the door. After giving the door his best glare, Victor braced himself, grabbed the handle, and practically threw himself against the door in an attempt to open it.

Unfortunately, all he did was hurt his shoulder. I'll probably have a bruise, he thought, rubbing his upper arm. Then he rallied. This is for Victoria. I have got to open this door, he thought. Once again, Victor rammed the door with his shoulder.

"Victor, for heaven's sake!" Victoria exclaimed as he bounced off of the hard wood.

"I'm all right, I'm all right," he said, waving a hand. "It's fine. I'll go out the window."

"Victor!" Victoria said again, sounding a little exasperated. "You have to pull that door open!"

There was a pause. "Oh," Victor finally said. He took hold of the door handle again, and pulled. The door opened, letting in a gust of cool air. Feeling like quite an idiot, Victor reached over and pulled his overcoat from its peg.

"Let me go fetch Mr. Reed," Mrs. Reed said. "He's still not feeling all that well, but I'll go get him up. He'll get the carriage ready for you."

"Carriage?" Victor asked, turning as he pulled his overcoat on. "Thank you, but there's no time for the carriage. I'll just—Victoria, why are you looking at me that way?"

Victoria seemed to have recovered a bit from the last spasm of pain. She stood on the staircase, one hand on her protruding abdomen and the other gripping the railing. The look on her face was hard for Victor to interpret. Mrs. Reed stood there next to her, giving him an almost identical look.

"Victor, it's a half-an-hour ride in the carriage," Victoria said, breathless but patient. "If you walk, it will take longer."

"Mr. Reed can get the carriage ready in no time," Mrs. Reed added.

"I don't plan on walking—I plan on running," Victor said, pulling the door open wider and taking a step over the threshold.

"But Victor--" Victoria began. She didn't get to finish her sentence, though—once again she gasped and doubled over, moaning just a little. Mrs. Reed placed a soothing arm around Victoria's shoulders, murmuring something encouraging that Victor didn't catch. Watching her, Victor had to take a deep breath to keep himself together. Though judging by the way his hands were shaking, and how his knees had gone all wobbly, deep breaths weren't working all that well. It was very hard, seeing Victoria in that much pain. Finally, Victoria managed to straighten up a little. She waved a hand at him.

"Go, please...anything you like...just go," she said breathlessly. Victor paused for a moment, halfway out the door. Their eyes met.

"I'll be back in no time," Victor said. Then, deciding that he didn't care that Mrs. Reed could hear, he added, "I love you, Victoria." Even from his spot at the door, he could see her swallow hard.

"I love you, too, Victor," she replied, managing a small smile.

"Come along, let's get you upstairs," Mrs. Reed said. With that, the two of them began making their slow way up the staircase.

Victor watched them until they were out of sight, his heart in his throat. Then, taking another deep breath, he took off as fast as he possibly could into the misty twilight.